


Dirtyhands' Demon

by kettercrows



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Book 1: King of Scars Spoilers, Gen, Grishaverse, Inspired by Six of Crows, POV Kaz Brekker, Post-Book 1: Six of Crows, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Post-Book 3: Ruin and Rising, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettercrows/pseuds/kettercrows
Summary: Kaz finds himself in a pesky situation when a certain privateer and storm witch place the Darkling under his responsibility. Takes place post-King of Scars. King of Scars spoilers!
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	Dirtyhands' Demon

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this short fic :)
> 
> I've always wondered how Kaz and the Darkling would interact with each other, so here's my rendition. I wrote this a year ago and originally posted it to my Tumblr, but decided to move here. Still not sure whether or not I'll post the continuation.
> 
> Side Note: I'm still trying to figure out how this site works so I apologize if the formatting is off! I'm posting this from a mobile device rather than a computer.

“Had I found you then, you would’ve been a fine addition to my army, Mister Brekker, regardless of being an otkazat’sya.”

Kaz simply stared at the—the Darkling—in front of him. According to Sturmhond, he was supposed to be centuries old. This person lounging in a splintered wooden chair as though it was a throne was no different than any other canal rat trying to smooth-talk his way through an encounter with the stadwatch. And Kaz was meant to be babysitting him? 

“Quite a shame you would have been a bit too young to join my ranks during the war. I believe—”

“Shut up,” Kaz glowered, shifting his focus back towards the paperwork he was completing. At least, the paperwork he was trying to complete. His designated captive was making the sole concept of thinking difficult. It seemed as though the man was determined to burn holes into the back of Kaz’s skull whenever he was turned away, along with finding an opportunity to break his concentration with an unnecessary comment at least three times per minute. Additionally, besides the few people he called “friends,” he had never met someone who wasn’t intimidated by him upon their first encounter. Kaz didn’t like it. Nobody managed to rile him as much as—he hated thinking of his name, it was stupid—the Darkling.

“Now, that’s no way to speak to—” he started.

“I’m going to keep interrupting you until you shut up.” Kaz said, flaunting his hand in the air. 

“I know Kerch prefers to remain neutral when it comes to affairs in other countries— “

“Perhaps you were the reason why.”

“—but I was the former general of Ravka’s Second Army. Do you—”

“Heard it the first twelve times, you podge.”

“Fine. Make me your villain.” The Darkling crossed his arms before somehow managing to relax even further into his seat.

“If that’s what it’ll take for you to stop talking for two minutes, my pleasure,” said Kaz.

Sturmhond had warned Kaz of the Darkling’s manipulative demeanor. He hadn’t felt the need to mention how insufferably talkative the former-Grisha was, something Kaz wished he had knowledge of prior to this arrangement. Still, despite his country’s supposed emptied coffers, Sturmhond managed to produce a fine reward in exchange for the one thing Kaz could offer: a place where nobody would think to look twice. Well, he was the right person, the Barrel the most prime location.

“You’re the only man I know that will do anything for the right price and without questioning my morals,” the privateer had said. “I need you to protect and keep him out of trouble. He’s lost his summoning abilities, so I trust that this won’t be difficult for you.” He had been correct about the summoning. Kaz supposed Sturmhond’s description of the job’s difficulty had been a half-truth, though.

But it was a pity, really. Without the Darkling’s so-called shadow summoning powers, he was nothing but a liability wearing the mask of what he assumed was a pretty face. 

Kaz frowned, remembering he intended to meet with Jesper within the hour. After a single day in his care, the Darkling had become a pest when it came to his daily routine. That being said—he really didn’t want to take the Darkling along with him to see Jesper—but what choice did he have? It was either that, or knock him out with the hopes that he’d remain unconscious and undiscovered until Kaz returned.

“Get up—” said Kaz, shrugging on a coat. “I have business to attend to and you’re not going to be the reason I make five thousand kruge instead of ten.”

“Oh, to be disparaged by a greedy, self-centered, nineteen year old boy,” the Darkling mused.

Kaz deliberately made a show of loading a pistol before grabbing his cane and nudging his ancient captive out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like the story to continue, please comment and let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
